When the Thunder Breaks
by WeLonelyOldSouls
Summary: Some powers remain hidden to us until we need them. Some things lay dormant waiting to spring to life. Those same things aren't always passive in their waiting either. In which the scar is more than it seems. End of third year on Smarter!Harry, Elemental!Harry AU
1. Dark Skies

Through the blinding, bright light, Harry saw someone with an outstretched wand. The glowing stag was radiating comfort and peace and, dare he say, love. The figure looked like him in a way, looked like him, but it couldn't be. He was here, not there. But, there was no one else that matched the way he looked. No one at Hogwarts or in Little Whining. Well, it could be one person. Harry hadn't ever seen him in person, but he knew of him. They all said he looked like his father, except for his mother's eyes. So if it wasn't him, then…

"Dad?" He moaned to the rapidly fleeing dementor swarm, eyes closing from the stress of the night.

Harry turned back to Hermione. "Well, that's that. Let's grab Buckbeak and find Sirius." She nods mutely, brain still in shock at the spell he cast.

"Buckbeak!" Harry calls into some bushes. "Beaky!" Hermione swats his arm.

"Harry, there's a werewolf here. Do **not** go shouting into the woods. I'd rather not be killed, or turned. My parents would be horrified." She scolds.

"Right. Sorry. Here Bucky!" He whispers, voice substantially lower. They keep descending the slope.

"Hey, here's the track from the Weasleys Angelina." He comments as they pass a dried set of tire tracks. Hermione stops in place.

"What?!"

"Er, right you were asleep. So you know Ron and I missed the train last year, right?" At her nod he continues. "So we borrowed the Weasleys car and flew here. Crashed into the Whomping Willow. The car apparently was peeved at us and chucked us out. Then it drove off. So later, we went searching for Aragog, and-"

"Aragog?" Hermione interrupts.

"Hagrid's acromantula friend. Anyway, we went searching for him to find answers on what was petrifying the students. He wasn't helpful and sicced his brood on us. Said that he had them spare Hagrid due to their friendship, but all others were fair game. So we were running from the spiders-" Harry continues.

"Running? Aren't they just spiders? You could've stepped on them."

"You do know how big acromantulas are, don't you?" He asks.

"No, how big?"

"Well, Aragog was about the size of a semi, and his brood ranged from regular to pony sized."

Hermione gasps, "And you went looking for them?"

"Hagrid trusted them, so yeah. We didn't think they would attack! Anyway, we ran and the car found us. It took us back to Hagrid's hut and threw us out again. Ron and I owe it our lives. And a detention, come to think of it." He finished.

"That's crazy. I thought first year was dangerous, but my lord, Harry! You need to take more care of yourself." Hermione admonished.

"So says the girl prancing about in the forbidden forest with a werewolf on the loose, looking for a 'bloodthirsty and murderous' hippogriff." Harry shoots back with a grin.

"A bloodthirsty and murderous hippogriff we just found. Come on Harry, let's go save Sirius!" She says cheerfully. Suddenly, the beast in question rears up, whirling to the other side of the tree it was lounging under. A pair of yellow eyes gleams out of the darkness. A low growl that the pair feels reverberating in their sternums comes through the clearing. Professor Lupin circles into the light of the moon. His flank is scratched and small bits mar his front. The wounds seem to have only irritated him more. His eyes lock onto Harry's as a strand of saliva droops from his fangs.

"Hermione, get behind me." Harry orders, drawing his wand. He knows it's futile, but there's little other hope. Maybe an overpowered stinging hex or an extra bright Lumos could drive it off. Or, perhaps he could pull a Ron and levitate it out of the way. She scrambles behind him, painfully aware that she is actually larger than him. She files this away for later, deciding that now is not the time to discuss his home life. If they survive, she vows to come back to this.

Harry determinedly takes a step forward. "Lumos!" He shouts, the tip of his wand lighting up brighter than his Patronus had been. The clearing is thrown into stark relief, the shadows bending away from the light, trees shining white or black, all color seemingly cast out of existence. Lupin howls in pain, rearing up away from the light, but swiping blindly. Harry is hit by the blow, wand flying form his fingers, jacket shredded from Lupin's claws. Blood wells up from the scratches. He yelps in pain. "Harry!"

Lupin barks in pleasure at the brightness-that-hurts going away. His prey is defenseless in front of him, two warm bodies. He can taste their fear, their smell. They should be enough to satisfy him this night. Maybe he'll need one more. For some reason, he feels like there should be three. In the face of his great triumph, a pair of wings billow open in front of the downed prey. Talons lash out at him, catching his muzzle. The rip-tear feeling comes again, bringing the pain with it. A beast rears up in front, a fellow hunter. So he strayed into their territory, their hunting grounds. Not knowing if this creature is solitary or a pack hunter like himself, the wolf howls and retreats to less abusive territory.

Buckbeak turns back to the two-legs that he liked and the one who fed him. He liked these two. They gave him ferrets and respect. They were his; no beast was going to take them. He sniffed at the one who smelled like food hopefully.

Hermione crouched next to Harry, inspecting his arm.

"Hermione, am I going to change now? When will the first be? Oh god, what will the Dursleys do? Uncle Vernon will kill me when he hears!" Harry says.

"Harry, did you sleep through Snape's entire lecture? Only werewolf saliva can infect. You're fine. Thank god. Now, what was I saying about crazy?" She cuffed the back of his head before hugging him. "That's for saving me and risking your life. And not in that order." She felt Buckbeak's, er, beak prodding her back. She stood up, raising her hands, showing the hippogriff that she didn't have any more food for it.

"Harry, I feel bad, he saved us and I can't thank him."

"Help me find my wand; I think I can find one of Hagrid's traps. Wait, got it." He stands up quickly before stumbling to a tree.

"Harry!" Hermione calls out in alarm.

"I'm fine, just stood up too fast." He replies, tucking his wand in his pocket. She sighs and walks over, tearing off the ripped sleeve of his jacket.

"Reparo, Scourgify." She cast, making the sleeve whole and cleaning it of debris. She wraps it around his scratches, tying it in a knot over the wound. "That'll do until we're back at Pomphrey's. And it's no surprise about your condition. Magical exhaustion AND blood loss. To anyone else, it'd be a shock you're walking."

"Well, the chores've got to be done, right?" He says cryptically. "Thank you Buckbeak." He calls, bowing to the birdhorse. " _Or is it a horsebird? Semantics_." He decides. "There's a trap over there, Hermione." He calls, focusing a moment with a muttered Lumos. The light comes out narrower, as a beam pointed at a line hanging from a branch.

"Just out of curiosity, how did you?" Hermione asks as she retrieves the dead rodent.

"I've been practicing magic with Professor Lupin during my breaks. He's taught me some tricks on intent." Harry replies.

She cuffs his head, "Magical Exhaustion," and feds the ferret to Buckbeak. "So, how did you do this again?"

"Bow, then er… Figure it out." At her dirty look he continues. "Hagrid just kinda plopped me on him last time. I'm not sure how to mount. Come to think, Hagrid probably doesn't either with his size and all."

"Boys." Hermione huffs, bowing to Buckbeak. When he bows back she approaches him, stroking his beak. "You're just a wonderful hippogriff. You don't know the mounting procedure though, do you?" To her surprise, it seems he does. Buckbeak bends even lower, to where she can brace off a nearby tree and sling a leg over him. "Come on harry, it's not hard."

With much more care, harry repeats the process, shuffling onto Buckbeak's back.

"Now to the north tower. " He says, prodding the hippogriffs sides with his worn trainers. The birdhorse wheels upwards before galloping and leaping into the air.

Their arrival at the north tower happens without notice, as well as bursting his cell door. Hermione's subtle Alohomora attracted as much notice as it did first year, rather than the blast that Harry's Bombarda would have caused. However, Sirius was yet to move.

"Sirius? We've come to rescue you! Sirius?" Harrys chipper call swiftly descends to worry. Hermione's hands climb to cover her mouth, trying to muffle the "No…"

"Siri?" Harry is on his knees by Sirius body now, clumsily feeling for a pulse or something. "Hermione. Hermione, he's- he's cold. There's no heartbeat. Hermione he's, he's, he's dead. He was going to let me stay with him instead of the Dursleys and he's dead. He's dead. Hermione he's dead!" Harry is in full hysteria, tears sliding on his cheeks, nose running; it falls to her to keep them safe.

"Harry." She calls softly, gently. "Harry there's nothing we can do."

"But- but I made sure they didn't kiss him. I watched the dementors flee. They didn't get his soul." He protests.

"Harry, the dementors kiss doesn't kill a person, it only takes their soul. If he had been kissed, the body would still be alive." She says gently.

"So you're saying that he- that someone?"

"Maybe. We don't know. We didn't see them take him in. We don't know harry. We don't." The ominous sound of tolling bells suddenly boomed.

"Harry, quick- we've got to be in the infirmary before the bells are over." She cries out. "Buckbeak, you're free now. You can go wherever you want to, but you can't stay here. Go. Be free, and be safe." She pleads, pressing a hand to his side. He noses her shoulder. "No, you can't stay. Forgive me." She slaps his flank roughly. He cries out in shock, turning and launching from the tower. "I'm so sorry. C'mon Harry. We have to be at the infirmary."

The final bell tolls as she drags a shell-shocked Harry through the doors. Ron is thankfully asleep and Dumbledore is nowhere to be seen.

"Harry, you have to lay down on your cot." She guides him to his cot and gently pushes him down.

"Miss Granger?" Madame Pomphrey's tone is sharp, and comforting.

"Harry was thrashing about. I- I woke him up, but he turned to this. I think it may be that the adrenaline is wearing off. Also, his arm is torn open. I just noticed it now. Lupin had bound it before…" She trailed off.

"Oh, my poor dear. Rest. I'll handle this." Madame Pomphrey guides her to her own cot and gently pushes her down. "A calming draught?"

"Yes please." _"Anything to end this night."_


	2. Clouds Brewing

**AN: / I can't believe the support this has gotten! You all are amazing. I can't promise the updates will continue at this pace, but they will come. Also, I went back and worked on the past-present-future tense issues. I think i got them all, but I'm not certain. If anyone wants to review it as they read and PM me the results, that would be very much appreciated. Enjoy!**

Hermione awakens many hours later. It is early morning, the dawns light barely peaks over the horizon. She tries to find a reason for her sudden awakening, but nothing appears. She hmm's and lies back down. Maybe if she is still enough… A slight gasp comes from the cot across from her. She gives an indulgent blink before sitting up again, wrapping her dressing gown around her legs to hold the heat. Harry is sitting on the edge of his own cot, arms curled protectively around his knees. Her heart actually hurts to see him in so much pain, in such a vulnerable position. There is no hint of the powerful wizard she had seen the night before now. Slowly, she eases next to him and wrapps an arm around him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"He's gone, Hermione. I only had him for a few hours, and he's gone." Harry says quietly. He rubs at his eye and dabs his nose. "I barely even knew him. Didn't have a- a chance to know him. He offered me a home, did I tell you that? He offered to let me stay with him, to escape durzkaban."

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry. He meant a lot to you, even in the little time you knew him. He gave everything he had to you. He wouldn't have wanted you to mope." She comforts.

"That's just it, he didn't! He didn't break out of Azkaban for me, no," He snarls angrily, "Ho broke out for his friend. Pettigrew. He escaped for revenge. That's all."

"Harry, no! He visited you when you were at the Dursleys. He came looking for you first, he checked to see if you were okay, and you were. So then he set out to accomplish his task. To exact his vengeance. He cared for you, more than any other. You didn't see his look when Snape barged in. His first thought was of you, I assure. Then when Lupin **turned,** he immediately leapt to defend you. Sirius cared more about you than Pettigrew, make no mistake."

"He still went after Pettigrew that night." Harry counters bitterly.

"I can't claim to know his reasons, but his mistakes aside, he cared for you. Besides, it's not nice to speak ill of the dead."

"Yeah. He's gone. Still find it hard to believe. He was so vibrant, so there! Hell, he sent me a Firebolt! Sirius wasn't here long. He made a few mistakes, but he was there when it mattered. He was alright."

"Whatever you say, Harry. He was your Godfather." Hermione whispers, hiding a smile. Harry was so forgiving.

"Yeah, he was." Harry trails off. His anger and sorrow is spent, for now at least. His head rolls to rest on Hermione's, and soon he is sleeping quietly. She extracts herself carefully not to reawaken him, slipping a pillow under him.

"And what was that all about?" Ron sounds mildly shocked, but more confused. Hermione groans lightly. Why did it fall to her to keep do everything?

"The news came early this morning, Sirius is dead." Harry seems to be taking it well, but..."

"Oh. Poor bloke. Getting a family before seeing it ripped away. That's harsh that is. What happened to Scabbers?"

"Ron!" She chastises. "Show some sensitivity! I liked him too. Scabbers escaped. So did Buckbeak, I think."

"You think?" he questions, "How can you not know?"

"Well, the executioner was cutting pumpkins when I saw him last, and I couldn't see Buckbeak."

"Oh. Right. It's a shame about Scab- Pettigrew." Ron's face scrunches up. "He got away. He slept with me every day since First year, and he got away. Plus, he was George's rat before and Percy's before then. Bloody hell Hermione, he's been with us the whole time! It's true he betrayed Harry's parents too, but he was in my bed. Daily!" He yelps. Hermione wants to refocus him on the severity of Pettigrew's crimes, cement that betrayal was much worse than hiding in the bed of a wizard, but thought against it. Maybe this was how he was dealing with it? Focusing on what he could understand rather than what he couldn't comprehend? She wasn't a psychologist, not by any sense. Not yet at least. Maybe she could read a few books this summer…

"Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, why are you two awake? The day is still young. Young Mister Longbottom isn't even up to harvest his plants yet!" Professor McGonagall looks irate, but on an early-morning level rather than Weasley-twin-prank one.

"Harry was…"Hermione starts, then trails off, not knowing how to explain it. McGonagall's gaze softens.

"I see. And you, Mr. Weasley?"

"They were talking." He gestures to Hermione and Harry's cot over his leg.

"Well, Breakfast isn't for another hour at least. You all should sleep. Unless, Miss Granger, would now be a good time?" The professor asks over her glasses

"Hermione, what's she talking about?" Rona asks.

"It's nothing Ron, homework questions." Hermione explains, answering McGonagall, "Yes, ma'am, just let me change."

"Alright then. Mr. Weasley, Madame Pomphrey will release you later, or have breakfast brought up when it is ready. I suggest you sleep off the rest of that skele-grow." Ron moans and lets his head fall back on his pillow. Loud snores erupt in seconds.

Hermione emerges from the loo giggling at Ron's snores and follows Professor McGonagall to s her office. "Imagine having to sleep with that every night!"

"Indeed Miss Granger, but I happen to know from Professor Flitwick that all of the Gryffindor third years are very proficient with the silencing charm." She replies with a wink. "Now I know why. Tea?"

"Yes please." Hermione accepts the saucer and cup graciously, blowing on the steam. McGonagall sips hers and sighs.

"It isn't morning until Tea. That means it's time to really wake up. The only way to wake up, really. Some of these younger witches keep raving about this yank brew, coffee they call it? Stick to tea I tell them. Who knows what's in that foreign brew!" Hermione giggles again at the Professors suspicious expression.

"It's more than a little bitter, that's for sure. Mum swears it can strip paint on a day with a strong batch." Hermione admits, sipping her own tea.

"Well, enough pleasantries." McGonagall says, setting her tea down. "I trust you have it on you?" Hermione nods, pulling the time turner out from her jumper. "And have you decided next year's schedule?"

"Yes ma'am, I wish to drop Divination officially, as well as Muggle studies. The course is massively out of date. I'd also like to drop Magical Theory. I love the class, but I'd rather not have to use that again. It was pointed out to me that for all the time I was using it, I was working, and therefore was overstressing, since I wasn't adding any de-stressors as well. I'd rather not name the student, but I do trust them."

"Very well." The Transfiguration professor says, taking the outstretched time turner carefully. "I'll modify the rosters for next year. Is there anything else?"

"Well," Hermione says hesitantly.

"Yes, what is it?" She says.

"I think Harry also wants to change his classes. He expressed interest in Runes and Magical theory when he heard me talking about them. Also, while I skipped Divination for most of the year, the few times I was there it did not seem healthy for him. It can't be good to constantly hear your death predicted. He has enough trouble what with the troll in first year, the Basilisk last year and the dementors this year." Hermione says quickly.

McGonagall holds up a hand. "Tell Mr. Potter to come see me later. I can remove him from Divination due to the stress of impending doom, but he'll have to talk to me about the others."

"Thank you Professor. And thank you for the tea, it was lovely." Hermione says, walking from McGonagall's office. _"Where to now?"_ she asks herself. _"End of term feast is tomorrow night, maybe I should start packing. Wait! The library books I have out. I've got to run those to Madame Pince, or she'll have my head- worse, she might ban me from the library!"_ she breaks into a run, heading for the Gryffindor common room.

Harry wakes up slowly, relaxedly. It's different for him from everyone else. He is used to the rough, rude awakenings of the Dursleys, or the sudden awakening caused by teenage boy. This is new. He slowly becomes aware of his location and judging by the medicinal smell and the potion leaning on his nightstand, he is in the Infirmary. Again. _"At this rate, Madame Pomphrey **will** make a cot just for me. Worse, I'll actually need it." _

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you would awaken. What type of metal would you like for your plaque? I was thinking bronze, but then I remembered that is traditionally Ravenclaw. Well?" Madame Pomphrey teases him as he sits up.

"Er, whatever you feel is best. Is it really necessary though?" He complains, shooting her a look. She sighs.

"Not this time, I guess. Lord knows though, you are my most common patient since your father was here." She replies.

"Really? My father? Was he here often?" Harry asks excitedly.

Pomphrey laughs. "Heavens no. He was very rarely in here. His prank victims though, they were here a lot."

"Prank victims?" Harry asks.

"Don't tell Minerva I told you, but your father fashioned himself quite the prankster, more so than even the Weasley twins. Of course, he wasn't quite as kind as them…"

"Really?" Harry is surprised.

"Yes, he and his friends could be very vicious in their attempts. Severus was in here almost weekly from one attack or another." She admits.

"Snape!? Snape was in here due to him?" Harry is shocked now.

"I shouldn't have told you that, he's quite particular about his past, but yes. James was very vocal and expressive in his dislike of our potions professor. All the way until he had to save him from a prank when he was lead to the willow on a full moon by Siri-" She halts suddenly, but it's too late. She can see his gaze fall, the happiness washed away by what she thought to be sadness at the betrayal rather than his death. "I'm sorry for your loss. It's a terrible thing that happened. You've recovered from last night's injuries. I'd recommend you go to the great hall, breakfast is only starting. Mr. Weasley still has a few hours of skele grow in him. You'll get him back later, I promise. Run along now." Harry nods at the matron, easing out of the cot and grabbing his clothes, cleaned by the elves.

"Hey Neville, what are you doing up so early?" Harry asks surprisedly.

"Oh, hey Harry. I'm always up this early, some plants can only be harvested by dawns light, and others on full moons. I couldn't get a pass to be out at nights this year for some reason, but I was cleared to go out as soon as the sun rises. What are you doing up?"

"I was just cleared by Madame Pomphrey, she told me to go and eat something. I guess for the magical exhaustion."

"Blimey Harry, Do you always have these adventures? That corridor first year, Chamber of Secrets last year, what was it this year?" Neville asks in surprise.

"Er, Ron's rat was stolen by a dog and he ran after it. We followed it through the Whomping willow-"

"Did you use the knot?" He asks sharply.

"What knot?" Harry asks confusedly.

"Oh, there's just a knot near the bottom of the tree that causes it temporary paralysis. Wait, so you fought through the Whomping Willow?"

"Yeah. Wish I had known about that knot."

Neville bursts out laughing. "You actually fought through the willows branches and got to the passage beneath? That's golden Harry, absolute gold. So what happened next?"

"Well, we chased the dog into the shack, where it confronted us as Sirius Black."

"No way." Neville says in disbelief.

"Yes way, so then Lupin shows up, and they talk for a bit. I guess they knew each other form before. So anyway, Snape barges in." Harry ignores Neville's shiver of fear, but remembers it for later, "During the scuffle for our wands Snape ends up out, and Lupin has black under guard. We revived Snape marched Sirius out, but Lupin forgot his potion."

"His potion?"

"Yeah, Lupin's a werewolf. Big hairy one too." Harry says.

"Bloody hell, no wonder they wouldn't let me out during full moons." Neville's face goes pale as the realization sinks in. He is lucky he decided not to sneak out for that sample of Rhunimum Silvaris.

"Yeah, so Lupin transforms. Black also transforms into some sort of dog and tries to run him off. Snape tries to protect us, but something happened to him. I don't really remember. Anyway, so I chase Lupin down. I thought he might remember me, I mean I've been taking extra lessons from him for most of term."

"You really slept though Snape's lectures. Everyone knows-"

"Hermione told me. Anyway, I chase him down. Lupin turns and is about to savage me when a wolf howls. I guess he decided defending his territory was more important than me. So he ran off, and I chased down Sirius. He was down by the lake, collapsed. I ran to him. I wanted to secure him, to bring him in. Foolish of me, I know. Call me a Gryffindor. The dementors suddenly come charging in, ready to suck out both our souls. I'm barely holding on, trying to cast a Patronus. I've got a shield, but it isn't stopping them. That fails, and they're all over us. I can feel the darkness setting in when suddenly a light fills the lake. There's another Patronus out there. I don't know who cast it, but it drove them all away. Next thing I know, I'm in the Infirmary. I heard he died. Sirius Black, I mean. I heard he was found dead in the tower." Harry quiets after the long speech, taking a drag of Pumpkin Juice.

"I heard that too. It's a shame he couldn't be brought to justice. He deserved his punishment."

"No!" Harry shouts suddenly, "I mean no, he paid his crimes. I would have liked to have seen it happen, but he had suffered enough. Ten years with those things. Brr." Harry feels bad for slandering his godfather's name, but Hermione and he agreed it would be safer for them both this way. They didn't save him, and Pettigrew got away. Sirius wouldn't hold it against him for letting everyone believe he died guilty, would he? He would understand that protesting his guilt would only cause problems, right?

Neville nods sagely, "I see. I- I don't know if I could be as kind as you."

"What do you mean?" harry asks.

"Right, you don't know. Shortly after that night, " he quickly glances at the scar, "shortly after, a few death eaters showed up at my family manor. They breached the wards and got me hostage. They tortured my parents, demanding to know what had happened to their master, lord- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"You mean Volde-"

"Don't say it!" Neville hisses. "There was a taboo before the war. They don't know if the death eaters are still hooked to it. They could track you by it."

"Oh. I didn't know. That's why people are so jumpy about it."

"Yeah. So they used the Cruciatus curse on them, demanding they talk. Neither of them broke under the pressure until it became too much. Gran woke up to me crying and both of them on the ground, minds broken. To this day they're in Saint Mungo's. Long term spell damage. The healers aren't very positive about them improving, but…"

Harry puts a hand on Neville's shoulder. "I get it. They'll improve one day. After all, they'll have you on their case. Is that why you're so good at Herbology? Is it the backbone of healing?"

"Yes, that and potions. But, potions isn't doing very good." He slumps.

"Mate, it's not you. It's Snape. That git can't teach. There's more to it than just the directions. I looked at some of the older books used for it. Half of first year was supposed to be for learning reaction tables and proper setup. Instead, we spent half of first year on potions accidents and insulting Gryffindors."

"Right."

"Hey Harry. Where are your glasses? Can't you not see without them?" Seamus asks, sitting down next to Neville. 


	3. Sunbreak

**AN:/ So, this is dialogue heavy. It solves a few questions I think you all had. You'll see a hint of Harry's new power soon, it's just taking a while for me to get there. I hope I got Sirius right. As always, read, rave, review, repeat :) You all are the best!**

(translations)

"What do you mean Seamus? Of course I've got them…" He trails off as he feels for the glasses. The uncomfortable but traditional broken frames were not there. Yet, he was seeing clearly. Something was off. " Or not. To answer your question Seamus, I'm not sure, and normally yes."

At Harry's confused look Seamus grinned. "Mate, you're Harry bloody Potter. You don't do normal."

To this Neville laughed. "Seamus is more than right; it's your family motto, isn't it?"

"Family motto?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, all big families have one. The Longbottom one is something along the lines of _'Grandis est quercus superum angens vitis'_ , or for those of us who have yet to learn the language of spells, 'Tall is the oak that survives the strangling vine'." Neville says.

"Bloody hell." Seamus says, borrowing from Ron. "Are they all that complex?"

Neville laughs. "Mine is; Harry's isn't. He's lucky. _'Nos numfacis Normativis."_

"Ergo, volo normatis, mi amicae." Harry says, resting his head on the table.

(Well, I want normal, my friends.)

Neville's grin grows wider. "Qui cognis laitus?"

(When did you learn Latin?)

It takes Harry a moment to think up his response. It had been a while since he had last spoke Latin. "Cognoscobam laitus per libri." He replies hesitantly, to which Neville looks pleased.

(I learned Latin through books.)

Seamus looks between the two before giving up. "I-ay o-day ot-nay know-ay atin-lay, o-say I-ay ill-way eat-ay ow-nay." He says smugly.

"udis-Lay uria-cay." Neville smirks. Seamus does not look amused. A few seconds later, Harry grins, having translated the lines.

(enjoy-ay e-thay ood-fay)

"Bon dies, Nevillus" Harry says, standing.

(Good day, Neville)

"E tu, Harrius." He replies.

(And you, Harry)

Harry smiles at the duo and turns towards the doors leading away from the great hall. He walks outside them, stepping aside for a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls to pass through without breaking rank. His mind whirls as it tries to comprehend the freedom of his next day and a half. The previous years, his time was taken up by the hospital visits or other issues. This year, he had it free. He could do anything. Hell, he could even free another Dobby! Who does he know that mistreats their elves, and how can he get them inside the castle…

While he plots grand theft servant in his head, his feet carry him on a familiar path. Every Tuesday, after breakfast, he either has Defense, or visits Professor Lupin. It was so common that the portraits along the route had started giving him tips.

"Potter!" A stately looking bloke calls out, jogging down the hall. Harry stopped in front of the normal meeting place, a portrait of a card game of some sort, taking place in what appeared to be The Hogs Head.

"Yes, Michael? What do you have for me today? Another one of the masters tips on how to not fall on my butt?" Harry teases. The man shoved a patron of the bar aside and quaffed a tankard of something. Harry didn't really want to think of what Portraits drank. Ink? Sealant?

"Nay, laddie. I got a tip for you from meself this time. I was hanging around the Hufflepuff dorms, trying to get to that kitchens portrait you told me about. Fruit larger than I, yumm. Anyway, So I hears these two gals talking abouts a fencing class they taking over the summer. Tis in London, above a shop on Diagon alley. You should learn you some type of weapon, more than a wand. Everybody's got a wand. Not everybody's got a claymore in their britches. Eyep, masters calling me back. Remember laddie, learn more. And as me Pap said, 'Semper Vigilo!'" He shouts as he runs.

Harry had yet to catch the boy's name, but he guessed that was their family motto, having heard about them from Neville. He just had to find out what family had such a motto. 'Constant Vigilance,' it sounded exhausting. They were probably mattress makers by now. Still, such advice was rare to get free, especially from people who were training under actual masters. Thank Merlin some strange person had thought to paint a portrait of a masters/apprentices ball. Getting them all together was both a hassle, and hilarious. How that portrait was painted, he would never know. Harry takes the final few steps from the corner of the corridor to the door to the defense room. He hesitates, holding off knocking. _'What if Professor Lupin was angry at him, or hadn't come back. If he hadn't come back,'_ Harry's internal voice rationalizes, _"then someone has to pack his stuff. May as well be him'_ , he rationalizes _._

Just as he goes to knock, the door swings open. Harry's upraised fist now beats not on the solid door it was poised over, but instead over Lupin's sparse hair. For a moment, they both blink at each other in surprise.

"Three things: one, James would tell us to stop making eyes at each other by now; two, Sirius would joke about checking for empty space in my head; three, I'm glad you came by. I was meaning to find you sooner or later. There are important things here for you." The Professor says, breaking the moment.

"Really? About my dad and him. They really would have? And what do you have that is so important?" Harry asks.

"Yes, they tried to be jokesters and pranksters. Went too far once or twice. Come into my office, I promise I don't bite." Lupin says.

"Professor, no offense, but I've seen you. You do bite. And it's not fun. You're not mad at me, right?" Harry says.

"Harry, you should know, I only bite at night. Or if someone asks me to. Some witches like that sort of thing I hear. Of course, they tend to rhyme with umbrella. No, I'm not mad at you. Why would I be? Should I be?" He almost sounded worried at the last part.

"Er, no. I haven't done anything that warrants anger, I think. I came to see how you were handling Sirius death." He says. Time seems to slow. Remus eager face slowly falls. The happy go lucky look tanks.

"Oh." Remus says. "That. He was a good friend, when I knew. Him. However, those years in Azkaban changed him. He didn't grow up per say, he was only altered by the dementors. He was normally much more fun. Always joking, pranking. He was the life of the party! He was awesome! He flirted with Dumbledore!" He laments loudly.

"He was also pants at acting. He's the reason we got caught for so many of our pranks. Bloody idiot can't keep his mouth shut." A voice says from the office.

"But, I loved him anyway for it, right?" Remus says.

"Er, sure. You'd better let the boy in. He had his wand trained on you through the hole in his pocket from the start." The voice commands.

"Righto moony. Righto." The defense professor says, tugging Harry into the classroom and slamming the door. Harry wheels about, seeing Lupin and… Lupin? The two Remus smile at the same time.

"So Harry, come to say farewell?" They say in synch.

"Polyjuice." Harry replies, looking between the two. "And the twins are better at that double speech. You should take lessons from them."

"Bah! I taught their grandmother to suck eggs. They've got nuthin'." The Lupin on the left says, while the one on the right glares at him.

"Padfoot! Act your age!" He chastises.

"Yes, mum!" He sticks his tongue out.

"Prat."

"Git."

"Will someone please explain what is going on here?" Harry asks, making a split second decision, the type that often finished with him in the Infirmary. He silenced the Lupin on the left.

"Okay Harry. I suppose it's time to come clean. I am the real Professor Lupin. That arrogant dimwit is Sirius Black. Kinda. I've been hiding Black all year. He saw you in Surrey, then somehow tracked me down on a full moon. Due to unique circumstances, I understood what had happened then. I knew he was innocent. So, I sent him ahead to Hogwarts, while keeping an eye on you. He has escaped a few times, but mostly stayed here where he is safe. Last night was a turning point for us. With Pettigrew's escape, and Snape's hatred to the point of having Sirius kissed before trial, we decided that it would be better for us to fake his death. We borrowed some ingredients and constructed a simulacrum. This is what you found dead. Still not sure who killed it, but it's gotten Sirius out of trouble. Next-" he is suddenly silenced by a grinning Lupin on the other side, having somehow gotten the silencing spell off.

"Merlin, so Moony is boring telling it like that. Main points: Moony has been asked to resign, I am alive and plan to be for a while, and you are free of the Dursleys. Yay! Party! So by my will, which is being executed as we speak, you are getting a new godfather, one Remus Lupin. Mr. Lupin, former Defense against the Daft Arts teacher at Hogwarts, has recently adopted one Arcturus Regulus Black- parentage unknown. In all fairness, this one actually works since my brother disappeared one day during the war. Tack on the odd tradition of naming the sons middle names after their father, and boom! Instant story. New cover and the time frame even fits. Barely. Had to stretch a few dates. And I was conceived during the Slytherin's final game of his seventh year. Literally, during the game. Must have been a wild show." He mimes wiping away a tear. "So, I'm your half-brother now. Older, half-brother." Sirius finishes, wriggling his changing eyebrows.

"Harry, you should know that we altered Sirius a bit. He's not the way you remember seeing him." Remus cautions. Slowly, Sirius' disguise falls away to reveal someone Harry is certain he's seen before. He looks much younger than he did before. Suddenly, it hits Harry. This is how you looked before Azkaban. How did you?" He asks.

"A banned de-aging potion. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks." Remus explains.

"To start, your sex drive dies for a few months as your body adjusts. You lose memory of whatever you did during that time. Next, if you've lost something as part of your life, it doesn't come back. You can't regrow a leg or an eye. You also can't go too far back, or your magic over-regresses and you lose most of your ability. Your abilities also get mixed up, so you need to retrain them. Meaning, Animagus, Occlumency, Metamorphmagus, to name a few. It's often a last resort for torture victims." Sirius adds.

"Wow." Harry says, sitting down. "This is a lot to take in at once. Let me get my bearings. You," he points to Sirius, "not dead. You also younger less controlled-"

"No signifigant change." Remus mutters.

"and adopted by him," points to Lupin, "who is my new godfather, since you dead. We, now live where?" Harry finishes.

"Good question." Remus says. "We decided it would be a joint effort to buy a home. We don't lack funds, per say, but we wanted it to be a real home. We wanted you to have a say in what we choose." Harry looks up sharply at that, eyes wide with disbelief. "Yes, you get to help choose." Remus assures him. Immediately, harry runs and hugs them both.

"I think today is the best day of my life." Harry confesses. Remus smiles, and musses his hair, just like he did to James. Sirius pouts. He wanted to mess up the hair!


	4. Static

A moment passes before Sirius pushes harry and Remus away from him saying, "Sappy moment over, time for fun!" In reply Remus cuffs him over the head, his eyes lighting up.

"Once its official, I'll actually be allowed to do that to you! Legally! Finally! All those nights in the tower, all those awful jokes…" He has tears in his eyes, remembering all the times he wanted to slap Sirius, but held back due to one reason or another. Sirius wisely edges to the other side of Harry.

"Right, well, Professor Lupin-" Harry says

"Remus." The professor interjects.

"-Remus, have you seen Pettigrew on the map? Actually, come to think of it, how the hell will you adopt Sirius? Or foster me? I thought the ministry outlawed so called dark creatures doing those things, which is complete rubbish, you know that most of them, well the human ones, are perfectly fine and-"

Sirius returns his hand to Harry mouth. "Slow down, you little blighter. One at a time. And you had better start calling me Arcturus, Arc for short."

"I haven't seen Pettigrew on the map at all; I believe he fled to seek out his master. As for adopting Siri- Arcturus, I'm not actually adopting him as much as he is entering a mastery contract with myself. Your godfathership fell to me with Sirius' demise, and with a few bribes, and a property registered in North Korea, I can do my duties as godfather, but I won't actually be recognized as your godfather. If For some reason the dynasty of North Korea falls, then we may have a problem. Until then, I wish any lawyer luck in disputing the claim." Remus explains.

"You have a mastery? In what subject?" Harry asks.

"Nope, No mastery. But, by the way the contract is written, I don't have to. The contract stipulates that I must train my protégé in his or her chosen mastery until they achieve it, or they age out. Arcturus will age out three years, and in the meantime is protected from his family and gets to retrain all of his skills. Plus, due to ministry grants and loopholes, most materials he needs for his mastery are paid for. Very few fields lack a grant or two for costs, since masters in subjects are so few.  
"Okay, but what's our plan? How do you see this working out? And how did you get this past the Goblins?" Harry adds.

Arcturus sighs. "I had hoped you wouldn't ask." Turning to Lupin he says, "I'm going to pack the rest of the quarters," leaving Lupin and Harry.

"It's hard on him. He's very, very confused. I explained what we did to him, and he wrote himself a note, but I think he underestimated the effect the potion would have. He- It killed him. Sirius died, Harry. It was only for a few moments, but it was long enough for it to count. He lost control of the family magics. We aren't sure where they are now. Anyone could have them. Our Best hope is that they reverted to the next best claim, his eldest cousin Andromeda. Worst case, they fell to Narcissa, who could bind them to Lucius or Draco. With any luck, when Arc turns of age again, they'll return, but we can't know. This type of thing hasn't been done in a long time. As for you, it would be for best if you returned to the Dursleys." Remus raised a hand at Harry's protest.

"It would be for a day or two at most. Arc and I need to get everything packed from my shack and check our funding. You need to recover some of your mother's things from your Aunt's home. You also need to shatter the blood wards, or find the ward stone. Lily told us she was leaving a contingency package with her sister in secret. It's blood sealed and nigh indestructible. I would know; she locked me inside it during a full moon. It's a story for another time. Dumbledore expanded the blood wards she gave you to encompass your Aunt's home. You must break them, which will eradicate his claim to keep you there, or find the ward stone, in which case we can pull them back to you intact. One way you keep your mothers protection, the other you eliminate Dumbledore's claim on you staying there. You **must** do something about them, however. I expect you wish to ride the train back to Kings Cross, say goodbye to your friends. Try not to antagonize your Uncle, or anyone else. A low profile would make this easier. But, knowing you," Lupin ruffles Harry's hair, "trouble will come knocking."

The pair grins at each other before Lupin shoos the boy. "Go, Arcturus and I have to pack this stuff up. And he is **awful** at packing. We found a pizza in the bottom of a box when your father moved out of his apartment with Sirius. He at least hit it with a stasis charm. Two warming charms and it made a good snack."

Harry laughs as he walks away from the office. There is so much he has to learn about his parents' friends. About his parents. He steps to one of the windows and takes a deep breath. So much of his life is changing. Hopefully, for the better. Mentally, he runs through what he has to do in the next day and a half. He still has to pack, make sure he doesn't have any books from the library, and talk to McGonagall about his classes. To him, it doesn't sound like much, but invariably, it is going to take up his every waking moment, guaranteed.

Still, summer breezes were blowing through the vale. Change was in the air. It feels good, he decides, to let things go. To move on. There was no stopping time, no halting progress. The future would come, inevitably. It was time to make the best of things. Filled with his new resolve, Harry turns toward a potentially unpleasant task. He had to talk to not only one head of house, but three. And he was running out of time.

Deep in the castle's bowels, a dark man in a dark room stirs a dark cauldron. It is quite a feat that he can see anything. True, part of the potions mastery was identifying ingredients based on scant sensations, but this was much more delicate. However, Severus Snape **is** indeed a Potions Master. More so, he is a **prodigy**. He has little time or understanding for the failures made by dunderheads. He just can't see how they can't see the connections, can't see why things do what they do. A quiet knock comes at the door.

"Delicate Potion work, give me an hour before you make a mess Mr. Malfoy." Snape chides through the door. On the other side, harry pauses, files the information away, and sets out to find one of the other professors.

Professor Flitwick isn't in his office, or his classroom. Instead, he is somewhere peculiar. He's in the seventh floor, unused girls loo. Harry learned a clever spell called 'point me', which leads him there. He checks the map, wanting to be certain there isn't anything suspicious going on, and it's all clear. He eases the door open to see something amazing. The diminutive professor is going all out against the bathroom. He evidentially animated the entire place, and is stretching his legs so to speak. Stretching indeed. The Goblin whirls around, utilizing simple spells to propel himself, to counter the movements and actions of the toilets and sinks. The water spouts and the doors. It's all whirling around. More amazing to Harry, is the way he is brandishing a small dirk in conjunction with his wand. The knife is doing less than the wand, but is no less important to his style. Things are in tatters, sliced apart or blasted to pieces. The duel is over in moments once Harry is through the door. Before he had stepped in, Flitwick was only using first and second year spells. Once he realized Harry was there, he used all of his knowledge to end it.

"Wow, Professor! That was amazing. How often do you do that?" Harry asks eyes wide at the show. The half goblin bows to his praise.

"It's a running prank my seventh years have on me. They use everything they know to create an ambush point, trying to defeat me. Not once have they succeeded to date. There are limitations, or course, but we have contingencies in place, such as another student stumbling onto it like you did. Now, what can I help you with?" The charms professor is slightly winded, but beams with happiness and delight.

"I was wondering if you had any suggestions for review over the summer or some extra things I should learn. A… family friend told me about my mother's interest in charms, and her declaration that they could do anything." Harry confesses.

Professor Flitwick brightens, dims, and brightens again. Likely at harry asking for help, the mention of that murderer, Black, and then at Lily. Oh, Lily, she was his favorite student. So eager to learn more, he was shocked that she wasn't one of his 'claws. She had such potential.

"I'll make you a deal, Mr. Potter. I may not be a Slytherin, but I can be cunning. I am half goblin, you know. If you promise to not hold back next year, I'll give you a list of materials you might be interested in. More so, I'll look into that secret project of yours. You know, the fun one I heard you talking to Weasley about." Harry looks shocked.

"How did you?" He sputters.

"Well, Professor Lupin told me of your Patronus charm. He told me your only limitation was your memories, that you didn't have one strong enough yet. I expect the same level of discipline next year. You give me that level of effort, next year, and I can promise that we'll work on that flight of fancy you've got." The Charms Master added.

"Teach me how to do that and you've got a deal." Harry says, nodding towards the demolished bathroom.

Flitwick laughs, "You really are a Slytherin at heart, Harry. Tell you what, you give me an O or O+ on your Charms owl, and I'll not only teach you to duel like I do, but I'll help you forge one of these." The half-goblin holds up his dirk. It is long for a knife, a good eight inches of blade. It's goblin forged, likely by Flitwick himself. The blade is sharp and precise, the piece balanced and light. An almost perfect specimen of a quick and violent weapon. Harry reluctantly hands it back, not wanting to part from it.

"You've got a deal, Professor." Harry agrees, eyeing the mess. "I should leave you to clean this up." The professor laughs, absently casts a reparo, which to Harry's incredulity, fixes almost all of it.

"I am a Charms master, you know." He winks. "Lily was going to take a mastery under myself, before you came along. Maybe you have her skills. Maybe you could find the same opportunity. Good luck."

They spilt paths, Harry to visit McGonagall, Flitwick to wherever.


	5. The Mountain's Echo

The dreaded corridor was empty this time of day. Defying expectation, it was not dark and dreary like Professors Snape's, nor was it overly bright and airy like Trelawney's. It was rather normal, rather boring. Harry walked briskly, not really wanting anyone to see him voluntarily approaching the Stern Deputy, holder of the-bun-that-endured. The reputation was well earned, it had survived the Weasley clan (two generations!), the Marauders, **and** the Lovegoods. Legend held that the only death eater to every push it out of place died. **Immediately**. There was no curse cast, or spell exchanged. They simply dropped dead. It deserved every bit the awe it got. It intimidated Harry, to be honest, but he was a Gryffindor to the core! He charged in, meekly knocking on the door.

"Professor McGonagall, do you have a minute?" He asked politely, clearly, exactly, scared to utter a single syllable wrong. It wasn't too late for her to change his test grade, was it? She could still fail him for stuttering.

"Ah, yes Mr. Potter. I was wondering when you would make your way to my office. Sources tell me you visited both Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick first. Do you really hate your head of house that much?" she held back a smirk at his shock and hasty reply.

'Of course not, I love Gryffindor! I mean, some of us don't think before we act-myself included-, and the twins can get annoying, Percy doesn't always live up to expectations, and Snape hates us on principle, and you never talk to us, but-"

"That's enough Mr. Potter. I believe you. Now, what would you like to speak with me about?" She replied, cutting his rushed reply off, though noting his added complaints. They would need to be revisited. She sometimes got so caught up in running the school that she just assumed that since no one said anything, everything was running fine. She knew she had a reputation, but it sometimes escaped her how much of one she had.

"Well, I'd like to switch my classes for next year."

"Oh?" She yet again cursed her inability to raise only one eyebrow. It was such a useful talent…

"Yes, ma'am. Divination, while simple, isn't doing me a lot of good. From this year alone, I can tell you that I am not a seer. I have little to no gift in the art; therefore, it is only prudent I switch out to a course where I can show at least some competency." He replied.

"Miss Granger coached you in this, didn't she." Minerva asked.

"Err, yes. She did." He admitted.

"Very well then, what would you like to take instead?"

"If it's not too much trouble, Ancient Runes and Magical Theory."

"Miss Granger said as much." She looks up after making the notes, seeing that he looks conflicted, "Is that all?"

"I was reading the course syllabus in Hermione's HaH, Hogwarts, a History, and I saw that Ancient Studies ran some years. It sounded interesting, but it isn't on the request list." He added.

"I see. Well, Ancient Studies is a course only taught when it has enough interest. Most purebloods avoid it since we liaise a Goblin Historian to help teach some of the aspects, as well as have other guest speakers. Half-bloods tend to shy away from pushing against the Pureblood traditions, and most Muggle born aren't aware of it. With you added to the list, we have enough to open it next year. Be warned, it is not like other classes. It transcends the years and houses, and does not have a syllabus. The exam for it is not standardized, and the curriculum is not set. It goes wherever it wants. Be careful, or you may get stuck learning about Mayan fertility charms for half of the year." She warned.

"Mayan fertility charms?" harry asked.

"I believe that was Mrs. Weasley's year. I'm sure it has no relation." She said primly. Harry barely avoided spitting out his tea.

"I believe that wraps our business up, unless you have anything else?" the professor asked.

"Someone close to me said that my dad was gifted at transfiguration. Was it true?" he asks quietly.

She sighs, "Mr. Potter, come with me." She leads him outside of the office, to the corridor it resides in. She draws her wand, clears her throat, and confidently swishes it, calling out, "Stand to!" Immediately, the whole corridor changes. Plants, windows, benches, suits of armor, even the floor itself changes to reveal various traps, from harmful to pranking. A carpet rolls up and salutes her.

"As you were." She calls out, and the traps all shift back to their original forms. She leads Harry back into the office.

"What was that?" he breathes in awe.

"That, Mr. Potter, was your fathers parting gift to myself and the staff. He spent his entire last week transfiguring anything he could think of into defenses. We were at war, you know. The entire marauders chipped in, even your mother, Lily, though she wasn't official inducted. They were the ones who re-vamped our defenses enough to withstand three separate attacks. Your father was one of the best transfiguration prodigies I have even seen. Based on your essays, I think you may have followed him. Judging from your essays, you picked up a rare volume of _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration._ Your copy, I believe is one of the few left that display incorrect information. It was a printing error, and had a fleet of owls sent out to recall them. I believe your might have been confused by the mail redirection ward, and was never delivered." She explained.

"Mail redirection ward?" Harry asks.

"You weren't aware? Hagrid was supposed to inform you of the vault that Gringotts donated to you due to your actions all those years ago. All of your fan mail and other automated letters are sent there. Unless a person knows you specifically, their letters are redirected there. You'll have to ask Hagrid for the key." She adds.

"Whoa. Wait, I get fan mail?" She can't help but grin at the scrunched up look his face too upon realizing that.

"Yes, I believe you have letters from most of the staff, as well as other condolence letters and other affairs there. If my memory serves right, there may be a letter from your grandfather, Charlus, resting there as well."

"My grandad sent me a letter?" He asks.

"No. he wrote you a letter on his death bed. You were only a few weeks old, so he recorded down his thoughts and advice to you. I have to assume once your parents died, it was added to the vault. By now, it may be quite full." She said kindly.

"I'll be sure to visit it, and try to sort out some of the mess. I'll also get a new version of the textbook. Thank you for both the stories, and your time professor McGonagall." He replied, walking to the door.

"Remember Mr. Potter, my door is open to **all** students who want to talk. My star seeker is welcome anytime." She bade him farewell and settled back in her chair. A few quick slashes and jots with a quill, and his schedule for the next year was changed. Ancient Studies was a half-block class, which meant that he would only have half a free period some days, but he would fare alright. She could tell.

"Oh Charlus, if only you could see him now. He is so much like you. James, he has your skills. He maintained a passing grade without the use of a textbook. Lily, he is just as wonderful as you were. It's a shame he never knew you all. You would have loved him, even were he not family." She reminisces.


	6. Angels Above

AN:/ Blargh. School is a killer. I'm working on continuing what I've got so far, as well as rewriting a few parts that have already been posted. There shouldn't be any major changes, just a few spelling or grammar corrections. From-form mostly. (That one is killing me.) Well, here's what you've been waiting for.

Harry ran into Hermione as he was walking back to the common room. Literally, he plowed into her as she turned the corner. She was carrying quite a stack of books, and obviously couldn't see where she was going. It was impressive, really, that she had memorized the route form the common room to the library well enough to navigate it blind, trick staircases and all. However, as Harry and she found out, it wasn't foolproof.

"Harry! Watch where you're going." She scolds, picking up her fallen books.

"I was trying to find you! What're you up to?"

"Well, I **was** going to drop these off at the library." She says.

"Oh, alright then." Harry stoops over and starts picking up books. Before she can protest, he's eased the ones in her arms out of her arms and is carrying them all. "right, lead the way."

Dumbstruck at the gesture, Hermione leads him to the library without saying anything. The books waver a few times, but Harry never actually drops them. She leads him into the library and over to the returns table. He drops the books on the low table with an audible **thud,** and as he leans back, she sees his wand poking out of his sleeve.

"That was very Slytherin of you." She says as they are walking back.

"What?" he asks.

"With the books. It was very sneaky of you to use your wand but still make it look like you were carrying them." She explains.

He grins that annoying but sexy grin of his. "The hat did want me to be a Slytherin. He said I'd do very well there."

"Really? I can't imagine why. You did chase after a basilisk, attack a teacher twice, and chase a werewolf. Not very cunning of you." She teases.

"Yes, so I've picked up a few bad traits from Ron. So have you." He points out.

"Like what?!" she demands, hands on her hips.

"Disregarding the rules, setting a teachers robe on fire, calling a teacher a hag, just to name a few."

"Well-" she sputters, blushing. "They all deserved it. But, I see your point. The girl I was when I came here would never have done any of those things. She would have run for an adult."

"The change has been for the better, hasn't it?" Harry asks after a brief silence.

"I sure hope so. It feels like I've become better having grown up some. What about you, do you feel like you've become better?" she asks.

"Yeah. But, there's certainly a lot more I could be doing. I've taken a few steps on the path, but there's a long road ahead of me, you know?"

"You and me both." She admits, giving him a sideways hug. "I've got to go pack. The train leaves in the morning. You should do the same." Harry tenses under her hug for a moment, but nods in agreement.

"I'll see you at the feast." He promises.

She walks up to her room, absently thinking of how he sought her out. Her carried her books, he talked to her, was interested in her.

"I think Harry may have been trying to ask me out, but didn't have the courage." She muses.

" **WHAT!?"**

Harry walked up to his dorm, musing on his own question. He wasn't interested in Hermione that way. Honestly, he thought it was a bit soon to be thinking like that. It was only third year. Maybe next year he could try it out. He was honestly worries about what he asked her though. From his perspective, it seemed that he had corrupted her. She had come here, all innocent, and he had turned her into something she wasn't. By the same token, he had to admit that Ron wasn't all that great of an influence on him.

Ron was a bit too interested in goofing off, and didn't put much effort at all into his studies. He most certainly did not want to be like Hermione though. She would be visiting Pomphrey a lot come OWLs. He promised that to himself, for all their sake. He absently sorted his own stuff from the rest of the dorms'. Neville's he didn't have to worry about, since Neville was very neat and organized. Seamus and Dean however, in addition to Ron, they all were comparatively slobs. Their stuff was everywhere. It was a great trick Harry had learned to tag his own things with a mild identification spell. It was a two stage cast, the first by potion, the second by spell. Fred had taught him about it during one of the Hogsmeade trips. The potion wasn't too difficult, and could be brewed in under an hour. It had to cool for a week, but Hagrid had no problems sticking something questionable in the snow next to his hut for a week. Dreadfully naïve, but dead useful. So, the potion done, he only had to drop some on each of his items. The dull grey liquid hissed as it dropped down, but sank into the item without damaging it. Then, if you cast a modified Lumos, it glowed. The best part was that the potion was customizable by the number and direction of stirs. Clockwise made it lighter, counter made it darker. While brewing, it was the same color it would glow as.

Harry cast he same spell and things lit up all around him. He dumped his trunk on his bedsheets and started chucking things in after applying a cushioning charm. For the clothes it wasn't necessary, but more important objects required more delicacy. Hedwig's cage, his photo album, his many snitches. The snitches were special to him. They were something he had earned himself.

Each snitch was carefully made so that it would bond with whomever caught it first. After every match, Harry was able to keep the snitch he caught, as it would always return to him. By now, he must have had ten or twelve. He finished all of the loose clothes, piling all of the spare things that weren't his on one of the spare beds.

He wandered around the room with his wand glowing, searching for any wayward possessions. He found a pair of mismatched socks behind one of the beds, a rough draft of an essay he wrote last year on teacup transfiguration, and strangely enough, one of George's shirts. Very curious. He left he shirt with Ron's things, knowing that it would find its way home. Mrs. Weasley after all had been the one to first use that potion to tell the twins apart, before their pranks wore it off. They then found it themselves, and pranked her by switching constantly.

As he was turning to leave, he saw a light shining from deep in Ron's trunk. He looked for anyone watching before reaching into the half closed trunk. Down at the bottom, he felt a few papers and other things. They were all in a box. He tugged it out, shaking it off when he saw what it was. It was Scabbers old cage. Down in the bottom was one of his essays, that Ron must have collected for bedding for the rat. Also in there, though he wasn't sure it was on purpose, was one of his missing socks. He pulled both things out. The essay had his name chewed off of it, very deliberately. It didn't worry him at the moment. The sock he binned. There was no need to keep it.

He held up the two mismates for a moment, seeing if they were close enough that he could pass them off as a pair. They weren't. even if he was good enough with a color changing charm, the cut was different. He almost dropped them in the bin as well, but remembered someone who liked socks.

"Um, Dobby?" He called softly.

"Yes, the great Mr. Potter? Can Dobby get you anything?" the elf cried, popping into the room instantaneously.

"Yes. I want you to have these socks." Harry said solemnly. "I understand that I will not see you on the day that you were freed last year, since the calendar is different this year. As such, I would like you to have these as a gift in my stead. Please accept them as a humble apology of my absence."

"Dobby would be honored to take these. He will visit the great Harry Potter on that day, for it was the Great Harry Potter who freed Dobby! What shall Dobby bring?" the elf replied.

"Er," Harry stalled. He hadn't thought this far out. " Lunch. I think a lunch would be an appropriate way to celebrate your freedom. Bring what you want to eat, and I will make it for you."

"Dobby will bring the ingredients. Together, Dobby and The Great Harry Potter will make this lunch."

"Right. Enjoy the socks." Harry said as Dobby faded away. "That was far too taxing." He groaned, flopping onto his bed. Harry wracked his brains for anything he still had left here. Lupin had the map, he had his cloak and the photo album, Hedwig would fly herself, his broom! He still had to collect his Firebolt from the Gryffindor changing rooms. He looked at the window at the clear summer day outside, perfect for flying. He grinned and dashed for the portrait. He was going flying!

Outside, the weather was a touch warm for running. It wasn't bad, not too sweltering, but he was sweating by the time he reached the Gryffindor rooms. He quickly ducked in, casting a cooling charm as he passed through the doors. He unlocked his locker, eyeing the hanging jersey and gear. He had left it here the past two years, since it wasn't like anyone would take it. No one else had access to it. He decided the trend would continue, and pulled out only his broom.

Before he waked back outside, he laid it out on the bench and preened it. He had been in such a rush during these last few games that he had forgotten to do the proper maintenance. He straightened the twigs, waxed the handle, and tightened the grip. He spit polished the gold label and ran a diagnostic charm he had learned from one of his quidditch books. The charm came back positive, which was a relief. The charms on each broomstick were rated for ten years moderate, two years heavy play. Since it was only months old, it should have plenty of time left before they started to fray. Still, there was no hard data on dementor exposure, and they tended to have an entropic reaction on most enchantments. Plus, he had heard that the Aurors of Azkaban swore that the brooms didn't last as long as they should. Better to be safe than sorry. He rationalized.

Finally, he took his broom out, all the maintenance done. He mounted up and took off, warming up by taking a slow lap around the edge of the lake. People waved at him from below, and he waved back. The last few days, no one wanted to pick a fight. Everyone was ready to be done. He quickly became bored flying slow, and accelerated. He started throwing in loops and dives, swirling around above the lake. He may have been showing off, but who were they to judge? He was a teenage boy. It was in his blood. He dipped down to mere inches above the lake, dragging a shoe in the calm water. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Tension from the nights before and from all year faded off of him. When he was flying here, there were no worries, no problems. He could take on the world, do anything.

A sharp tug came at the front of his broom, and his eyes shot open. He was nearing the shore. Looking down, he saw a tentacle winding below him retreating to the deep. The Great Squid had an excellent relationship with most of the students. Some didn't get along with it, namely Malfoy, but most got along fine. Hagrid feeds it sometimes, and in return it helps the first years with crossing the lake, and looked after the students with one of its many eyes. It had the tentative nickname Argus, after the Greek hero of the same name, since it was always watching out for the students.

Harry thanked it for wakening him, and peeled off back to the castle. Flying alone was relaxing, but not too entertaining. It was much more fun with friends. He neared the castle and slowed, not quite stopping. The doors were open; he could just fly right in. He decided to go for it, and cruised in going a little slower than walking speed. It was like a muggle car idling in gear. The halls were very empty, and everyone gave him a wide berth. A few prefects looked unhappy, but didn't say anything. It wasn't hurting anyone, so while they disapproved, they didn't stop it. Harry wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, and drifted to the Ravenclaw tower. Standing outside the dorm was a pale girl with her wand out, concentrating very hard on something.

"You alright over there?' he asked, stopping the broom's motion.

She stayed quiet, a bead of sweat running down her head. He almost said something when a shirt and a skirt came soaring down the hall, landing at her feet.

"I'm sorry, I could feel them on the other end. It took quite an effort to get them to come here. What did you say?" she asked, turning to him.

"I asked if you were alright." Harry said again, hopping off of his broom.

"Oh yes, I suppose I'm alright in the sense of the word. I'm not sick, not too tired, nor particularly hungry. Some of my things are still missing, but they'll turn up." She said absently.

"Your stuff is missing? Did you lose it somewhere? Can I help you look?" He asks, deciding to be helpful.

"My house decided that I wasn't fit for them, so they hide my things. It's not a bother. The Nargles always help me find them."

"Nargles?" Harry asks.

"Yes, small red and gold creatures, much like pixies. They like to hide, but they know things and they'll whisper secrets to you if you listen close enough." She explains.

"Well, I don't know about Nargles, but what are you missing still?" He asks.

"Only a few things. My mother's old Herbology cloak, two scarves, a pair of panties, and my house hair pin." She replied.

"I can try to help." Harry said, fighting his blush.

"May I ride your broomstick?" she asked suddenly. Before he could reply, she mounted the wood and shot up; snatching a pair of pink somethings Harry didn't look closely at from the ceiling corner. "Thank you." She said, handing him his broomstick. "The rest is probably up in the eaves as well. I'll find my way up there somehow. You don't have to help me."

"Nonsense," harry started, his gryffindoorish tendencies shining through, "we'll find them. Hop on." He climbed back on his broom and got her to sit behind him. "Point if you see anything." He instructed, "and hold tight." He shot up quickly. Luna let out a light squeal at the sudden jerk.

"Careful back there." Harry warned.

"I'm alright, just a little surprised. Keep going." She said in his ear. He shot off, tracking along the top of the halls. They found one scarf by the Hufflepuff dorms, and the other by the Owlery. There wasn't anything near Slytherin or Gryffindor, nor in any of the academic hallways. Once in the great hall they struck pay dirt. Up in the roof, near the corner, her cloak was stashed. She let out a squeal of delight. Harry celebrated by doing a quick loop in the air, buzzing the still empty house tables. His seeker eyes saw something in the other corner, and he shot over. There was a recessed cubbyhole in the wall, which she reached into. She pulled out her pin and a compass looking thing on a leather chord. She was so excited at finding all of it, since her mother's pin had been missing since first year, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you so much!" she said, hugging him tightly.

"It was no problem, er-"

"Luna. Luna Lovegood." She said.

McGonagall scoffed and looked at the other professor. "I still say it will be Miss Granger at the end." Flitwick only smirked.


	7. Contact

AN:/ Can I say how much I love you all? You're the best ever. I'm working on some of the mistakes you have kindly pointed out, but I have to claim writer's blindness, so I'm not going to see all of them. If you would kindly point them out to me, I'll be sure to fix them. In other news, plot wise: yes, yes, and no. More soon. Enjoy the teaser.

The carriage rocked form the impact, the gaping mouth straining at the window. There wasn't even ice on it anymore; all of it had frozen too deep. From the contrasting temperature the glass started to crack. Harry knew that if that glass broke, the dementor would ooze inside and take them all. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't. The crack's spread and grew, the jagged lines growing closer to each other and the edges. It wouldn't be long now.

"Hermione, get the others back. I think I've got something." Harry said, glancing back at his worried friend.

"Scarhead, you've got no wand! You'll be killed!" Draco shouted from behind the door.

"Ferret, the dark tosser couldn't put me down. What makes you think a measly dementor can?" With that attitude, harry turned back. The glass was at breaking point any second now it would shatter and—

Crash! The glass broke inwards, and harry ducked the spray. The dementor fluctuated for a moment before pushing in through the broken glass. Harry stepped back, and back again. Retreating. He couldn't feel it here. Something was off. He took another step back. There was a loud screech and everything went spinning.

Harry's head hurt. He blinked his eyes open, thankful that he had bypassed glasses once more. He shoved a piece of the wall off of himself and stood up, leaning on the part of the carriage still standing.

"Hello? Anyone?" he called out. A muffled scream came from a closed compartment. Harry yanked the door open to see the dementor looming over Luna and Hermione. He didn't stop, he didn't think.

He reached out, and grabbed the dementor's cloak. He pulled it back, away from them, threw it across the wreck. Then, he reached within, and stretched out. Something welled up inside of him. The dementor shot forwards at him, claws outstretched. Harry jumped forwards and punched it. The moment he hit, there was a flash of light.

ZAP!


End file.
